Rivering: The Poetry of Daphne Marlatt

This place full of contradiction

This place full of contradiction for Betsy Warland a confusion of times if not of place, though you understood when i said no not the Danish Tearoom – the Indonesian or Indian, was in fact that place of warm walls, a comfortable tarot deck even the lamps pick up your glow, a cabin of going, fjords in there, a clear and pristine look the winds weave through your eyes i’m watching you talk of a different birth, blonde hair on my tongue, of numbers, nine aflush with cappuccino and brandy and rain outside on that street we flash down, laughing with no umbrella, i see your face because i don’t see mine equally flush with being, co-incidence being together we meet in these far places we find in each other, it’s Sappho i said, on the radio, always we meet original, blind of direction, astonished your hand covers mine walking lowtide strands of Colaba, the lighthouse, Mumbai meaning great mother, you wearing your Irish drover’s cap and waiting alive in the glow while i come up worrying Danish and curry, this place full of contradiction – you know, you knew, it was the one place i meant. The Poetry of Daphne Marlatt / 23 ...